


Wine in our Glasses

by KubricksCube



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Game of Thrones RPF
Genre: All ships that you can think of, Also I will insert Sandor in any fic that I do and you can't do anything about it, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, I'm just too lazy to tag it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27817861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KubricksCube/pseuds/KubricksCube
Summary: Inspired by listening to classical shit, and specifically to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vn-3qkmV84YAnd also by reading random YouTube comments (the original idea that I read is far from what I made, lmao it sucks but at least I tried and made something)
Kudos: 1





	Wine in our Glasses

* * *

* * *

"Da, you lived here before?" A woman, her mouth agape as her eyes scanned the room, asked the old man whom she was leading as they toured around the castle that is now one of the historical sites of the North, with the other castles as well, though this was the only one that was turned into a museum.

The man nodded, smiling as he watched her granddaughter, who is still clearly amazed, scan the area silently with her eyes. As he stared at his granddaughter, the more that her features resembled that of her sister. He wanted to tell her that, but he couldn't remember which one resembled her the most.

The girl stopped in her tracks, noticing how her grandfather now bears a cold expression that she only sees on the painting that is hung on their new ancestral home. She quickly asked if he was feeling alright, to which he responded yes. She then asked what was it that made him go all silent. The old man shook his head, telling her it was just that she reminds him of his sister, but he couldn't recall the name of his sister.

After a moment of silence, the girl then offered to the old man that they should head home, knowing that it upset him. Yet, he held her and told her that there's still one more room that he wants to pay a visit before they go home. At first, she was hesitant, but soon agreed when she caught a glimpse of anticipation building up in his eyes.

When the girl thought that the castle had already finished showing its glory, she immediately took that notion back when they both arrived at the Great Hall. Even though the walls were painted dark brown, the dullness was taken away by the paintings on the roof and the tapestry behind the massive table that was in front of them. "It is where we sit when our father calls for a celebration." The old man said. Grand chandeliers hung throughout the room, tables that stretched out so long that it could serve a hundred men at least, then the pillars were carved with wolves, and above the wolves were some wall-mounted candle holders in it.

She could not believe her eyes. It was magnificent. She couldn't believe that the man standing beside her, who lived all of his life as a simple and humble man, used to be one of the people who had the honour to live here. Still not over the view in front of her, the old man then started to tell his stories about the very room that they are standing on. He would laugh whenever he would tell the bits about her two sisters arguing, or when their cousin and their older brother tried to up one another about anything. She listened intently to his stories. For a moment, she felt as if she was also there when those stories happened.

When a good amount of time had passed, a woman then joined them. "It's getting late, Cat. Get your grandpa back in the car now."

The man protested, but the woman won't budge. "The museum is already closing. And besides, we spent almost the whole day here, Dad."

He went silent. She could tell he was sad, but nodded nonetheless. And when the woman walked out of the room, the old man grinned like a child and told her there is still one room that he likes to visit. The girl smiled and offered her arm for the old man to take, but he shook his head, "I'd like to go alone."

* * *

* * *

Rickon left as soon as the words left his mouth, leaving his granddaughter no choice but to let him do his request. His once quick feet were now slow, each step he takes he puts effort and drains him of his energy. His bones ached, his breath becoming ragged, but he ignored it all despite what his doctors had told him. It wasn't always that he gets the chance to explore his home that was once theirs.

He couldn't blame Robb, or his other siblings, for handing the castle of Winterfell to the North's care. The Starks are still granted access to the castle walls anyway, and he could clearly see that the people managing the castle were respectful to it, maintaining the original pieces of their home.

After walking for a while, Rickon finally found his room. He felt stupid, he walked past the room a while ago. Rickon thought he must've missed the room because he was reminiscing too much, he circled around the hallway.  _ It's alright,  _ he reassured himself. It was due that he cut himself some slack, it has been years since he was here. Almost half of his life was lived away from the comforts of this castle.

Opening the doors to his chambers, a gust of wind felt like it kissed him on his cheek. He turned to where the wind blew, but found no one in the vicinity near him. Shrugging, he proceeded to walk inside, pulling out the photo that he had sneakily nicked while one of his children, Lyra, was busy babbling about her experiences at the castle.

Rickon took his time to inspect the surroundings. Aside from a couple of things, his room stayed the same, just as he left it almost 60 years ago. The first one to leave was Arya. Ever so adventurous, she sailed to every part of the Known Planet, before settling near the castle, with her husband, Gendry Baratheon. It has only been almost 17 years since the pair both joined their parents.

Then, it was Bran and Sansa. Bran went away to pursue knowledge, having attended three different universities to advance to a degree closer to that of a Maester's. It was only a couple of years ago that he passed away peacefully, and in the coming days Shireen Baratheon followed him.

Sansa was the one who succeeded Robb when he died unexpectedly. Sansa and her husband, Sandor Clegane, have been planning on building a secluded home for their pups even before the two secured their union. And while they have lived in solitary for about a decade, the two then get called back by Jon to tell the news about Robb and Jeyne being in an accident. That was 30 years ago.

Only a year passed when they moved in that Sandor died in his sleep. And not a day passed that Sansa followed him. Jon was the one who saw her body beside him, both of them with their hands locked in each other.

Rickon finally felt the tears that were building up on his eyes fall down as his mind went to his wife, Myrcella Baratheon. If he recalls correctly, both his wife and Jon died at the same time. Her after childbirth and Jon after his year-long battle with a terminal illness.

Sad thoughts flooded Rickon's mind, realizing that he misses his family all this time while trying to be strong and fighting his own battle with dementia.

As he sat alone in the chair beside his former bed, he then tried to avert his mind into some happy memories that he created with them. And soon enough, tears stopped flowing.

He remembers how Sandor dubbed the three young Starks as "Baratheon Hunters", and joked that it looked like they were trying to dominate the Baratheon bloodline. He and Arya would always go toe-to-toe with each other with words, before their husband and wife interrupts their cursing and swearing.

He didn't know how many minutes had gone by after he left his granddaughter in the hallway, all that mattered to him that he was tired. Whether it was from all the walking that they did or from crying, he did not know. All Rickon felt at that moment was his eyelids drooping down, with their family picture as the last thing that he had seen before falling asleep.

* * *

* * *

_ Libiamo, libiamo ne'lieti calici _

_ che la bellezza infiora; _

Rickon awoke from his slumber when a familiar song played throughout the empty halls of the castle. Peering on to the windows, it had seemed that he overslept, seeing that the skies were now black and the stars had revealed themselves. Standing up, he straightened out his shirt and grabbed the photo he had hidden when a knock came from the door. He prepared himself mentally to meet his daughter's lectures about hiding and staying alone for too long.

_ e la fuggevol, fuggevol ora _

_ s'inebrii a voluttà. _

But a familiar face met him. A face that he missed dearly. It was Bran. He looks a bit too young from what he could remember, but Rickon knows that it is his brother that is standing before him. "Come, the others are waiting. Father has called everyone and prepared a feast." Before he could open his mouth to speak, Bran was already dragging him by the hand. Worried that he might tire himself again, he tried to tug Bran's hand, but instead he felt light. As if he is once again in his prime.

_ Libiam ne'dolci fremiti _

_ che suscita l'amore, _

_ poiché quell'occhio al core onnipotente va. _

All the lights and some candles were lit up when they passed the hallway leading to the Great Hall. Rickon could hear the loud voices singing, chattering, and cheering as they got closer. For the first time, he felt nervous as they stopped at the doors to the Great Hall. Bran asked if he is ready, which he answered yes.

_ Libiamo, amore, amor fra i calici _

_ più caldi baci avrà. _

As the doors swung open, all of the people inside the room turned to face the both of them. Their parents, Ned and Catelyn, were at the furthest table speaking with Ser Rodrik, along with Jory. Sansa, Robb, and Jon were huddled in a corner beside the nearest pillar to them. Sandor, Gendry, and Arya are sitting among the crowd, facing each other and seemingly arguing about something. Their wives, Myrcella and Shireen, were seated just in front of Ned.

_ Ah, libiam, amor fra' calici _

_ più caldi baci avrà. _

The crowd's cheer got loud more when Bran and Rickon finally stepped in, with their brothers and sisters flocking around them. While Rickon was in Robb's arms, being hugged to death, he caught a glimpse of their mother running towards them, with their father smiling and walking slowly. "My boys!" Catelyn Stark cried as she inspected Bran, then turned to look at Rickon. Most of them are now crying, due to the fact that right now, all of them are finally reunited.

_ Tra voi, tra voi saprò dividere _

_ il tempo mio giocondo; _

Ned Stark placed his hands on Bran and Rickon's shoulder, telling them how proud he is of the life that they had lived. The Oldest Stark then turned his attention to the object that was in Rickon's hand. "You're home now. There's no need for you to miss us." Guiding both of the youngest in the family, the song that Rickon heard earlier dominated the loud chatter of the crowd. Everyone was dancing, some were singing. And at that moment, the Starks always belonged to Winterfell.

* * *

* * *

_Rickon Stark, the youngest son of the Eddard and Catelyn Stark, died in his childhood room while holding a family picture in Winterfell. It has been rumoured that if one is to stand alone in the Great Hall, they could hear people singing and footsteps echoing at the room, as if they are dancing to a certain music._

* * *

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by listening to classical shit, and specifically to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vn-3qkmV84Y  
> And also by reading random YouTube comments (the original idea that I read is far from what I made, lmao it sucks but at least I tried and made something)


End file.
